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Number 9: Winter 2013

Five Poems

Kate Behrens

Christmas Ghost

 

Earthed here, rougher, much more

than delicate remembered bones

or even her face’s desire

to boulder such impossible loves,

Cassandra, still vanishing

under the weight of natural laws

unable to force things back into place

and all of those eyes still fairground glass,

she disadvantaged, so obviously

that taxi-drivers noticed it

refused her even a no-man’s land…

 

not here by the estuary

nor where a bird hovers

occludes a birthplace of crippled pines

for clouds stiffened like nacre

suggesting all kinds of mortal dangers

or supernatural relief

 

but under the tree with smashed glasses

embers of chestnut smoking on

boxing hours still held in abeyance.